DAMAGED 2.0

THEY CALL ME BRUCE?: Kung Foolery!

2009-07-08T23:00:00.015-06:00

THEY CALL ME BRUCE?: 25TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION
Starring Johnny Yune, Margaux Hemingway, Pam Huntington
Directed by Elliott Hong
Liberation Entertainment
Review by Louis Fowler

Of all the movies in the world to give a 25th Anniversary special edition to, 1982's THE CALL ME BRUCE? was the last one I expected. Did you expect it? No. Of course you didn't.

Now I'm sure all of us kids who grew up in the early 80s with classic HBO remember this and its sequel, THEY STILL CALL ME BRUCE? played non-stop between showings of THE BEASTMASTER and SUPER FUZZ, repeatedly watching to the point of having the goofy dialog ingrained into our childhood memories forever. It was a time of innocence when it was okay to laugh at ethnic stereotypes and wacky mix 'em up plotlines without some PC watchdog group shaming you into muffled silence. It was a golden age for cheap comedy and BRUCE might as well of led the pack with it's one-two Kung-Fu punch of comedian (and screenwriter) Johnny Yune—fresh off THE LOVE BOAT, as well as THE CANNONBALL RUN—running into all sorts of mob-based shenanigans, with only his good-natured quick wit and love of Chinese flour to guide him on his journey.

Bruce isn't his real name, but it's what the blow-hard Mafia stereotypes call him (because he's Asian—Korean, actually—and Bruce Lee was Asian, you see, so...well, according to them they all “look alike”. Don't get mad at me, that Guido said it! I'd never say such a thing!). So yes, they do call him Bruce. He leads a simple, happy life, cooking the gangsters spaghetti and telling them the meatballs are made from dogs. It's funny 'cause it's true.

At the same time, a group of white cops who know martial arts—a very slow, blocky, distorted form of martial arts, but martial arts nevertheless—are taking down said Mafia, ruining their coke trade, as cops are wont to do. Even though Bruce doesn't know martial arts, he always manages to comically fumble his way through every fight and, when a foiled convenience store hold-up earns him a bit of notoriety, La Familia dupes him into being their new errand boy to stay one step ahead of the fuzz.

Bag of coke in hand, he embarks on a trip across America to New York with a torn up and haggard, probably drunk-off-her-ass and clinically depressed Margaux Hemingway hot on his tail, as well as every ethnic stereotype possible: from the Italian wiseguys who use the phrase “Make him an offer he can't refuse!” within the first five minutes of the movie, to Texas rednecks, the Polish, the Jews and, if that wasn't enough—and it's not—not only do a group of black thugs teach Bruce outdated jive talk, but I think I saw JUST THE TEN OF US's Bill Kirchenbauer deliver an extremely offensive reenactment of the whipping scene from ROOTS. (It's really the only truly uncomfortable part of the movie, comparable to when your Uncle says the “N-word” at Thanksgiving.) I gotta give them credit though: every actor takes their role to the hilt, all played with a wonderfully overacting zeal that would make a 7th grade drama student say “Take it down a notch, pal!”. I'm actually surprised Avery Schrieber and Art Metrano didn't show up as an excruciatingly effeminate gay characters intent on nibbling on Bruce's eggroll, if you get my drift.

So while every other character is played obnoxiously broad, star Johnny Yune is actually truly hilarious, delivering one gut-choking one-liner after another; his gags definitely come from the near dead school of self-deprecating Rodney Dangerfield one-liners that, even in this jaded age of alt-comedy, will still have anyone who's not dead inside laughing out loud. Here's my three faves that I want to put on, at the very least, a series of t-shirts:

“I'm a sex object...everytime I ask a girl for sex, they object!”

“My grandfather had a dying wish...to stay alive!”

“I met a woman who made her husband a millionaire by gambling.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but he was billionaire before!”

(There's one other one that's a classic, but it's a visual joke that involves some chick's non-existent breasts in a hot tub. As the best jokes tend to.)

Also of the note is the utterly catchy opening theme song, with the lyrics “Oriental boy, hang on!/Go! Go! Go!” that is right up there with, well, the Oceans' theme to the aforementioned SUPER FUZZ—someone make a mash-up, and quick! Oddly enough, the rest of the music is made up of one homage after another; I'm pretty sure the director went to the composer and said “Hey, make me music for a ROCKY montage!” or “We need something that sounds like SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER but don't want to pay those Bee Gee prices!” It make for a fun drinking game, as any movie where the print resembles a cross between an early 80s Empire Pictures movie and a Schlitz commercial probably should be.

Most movies don't hold up twenty-five years later, especially as the soul-crushing haze of adult on-set memory loss sets in, but, like a good kick to the groin, THEY CALL ME BRUCE? is a direct hit. I call it funny!

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 07.07.09

2009-07-08T14:30:00.005-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: SENOR COCONUT Y SU CONJUNTO - EL BAILE ALEMAN
** denotes listener request

Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto-"Beat It"
Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto-"The Robots" *
Xavier Cugat and His Orchestra-"Brazil"
Felix Figueroa & His Orchestra-"Pico and Sepulveda"
Harry Belafonte-"Jump in the Line (Shake, Senora)"
Perez Prado-"Mambo #8"
Lou Bega-"Mambo #5"
The Kinks-"Come Dancing" **
Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto-"Showroom Dummies" *
Martin Denny-"Bangkok Cockfight"
Les Baxter-"Hot Summer Night"
Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto-"Neon Lights" *
Bostich-"Polaris"
Thunderball feat. Afrika Bambaataa-"Electric Shaka"
Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass-"Whipped Cream (Remixed by Anthony Marinelli, feat. Ozomatli)"
Ursula 1000-"Hip Length" **
Quincy Jones-"Soul Bossa Nova"
Herb Alpert's Tijuana Brass-"Hello, Dolly!"
The Fantabulous Brass-"My Favorite Things"
The Baja Marimba Band-"Portuguese Washerwoman"
The Mexicali Brass-"Zorba the Greek"
Sergio Mendes and Brasil '66-"Constant Rain (Chove Chuva)"
Mongo Santamaria-"Stoned Soul Picnic"
Señor Coconut Y Su Conjunto-"Music Non-Stop" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

CODEPENDENCE DAY: Let's get rid of the 4th of July altogether!

2009-07-05T01:56:00.007-06:00

CODEPENDENCE DAY: Let's get rid of the 4th of July altogether!
By Louis Fowler

I don't know which I like more: the sound of a child's shrieking cry as they realize they're just blown their fingers off or the muffled remorsefulness of parents who are silently cursing themselves for downing numerous bottles of some local micro-brewed swill as they let their child play with the “harmless” firecrackers with no supervision because they're too busy getting blitzed and not being, you know, parents.

That's all Independence Day has become anyway. An excuse to get drunk. An excuse to buy fireworks and pop them off without knowing why. Seriously: why even bother anymore? Why bother celebrating this dead, archaic holiday? Is this how it is everywhere, or only in Fort Collins?

The Fourth of July is—I mean was—meant to celebrate America's freedom. Most of the Fort Collinsites that I surround myself with don't give a damn about America. They don't give a damn about freedom. All they care about is their sense of entitlement. All they care is getting what they think they are owed because they had to suffer through eight years of Bush. They would kill to see that freedom replaced with an automated government who does everything for them—they are owed it. They will give up everything just for a pat on the head and a good feeling of “hope” and “change”, as long as they actually don't have to do anything to achieve it.

I'm sorry, but I don't believe in “hope”. I believe in ACTION. I believe in getting off your ass and DOING SOMETHING. I believe in something more than an empty gesture slogan like “Coexist” or “Eracism” or “Who Would Jesus Bomb?” slapped on the back bumper of my environmentally sound Volvo. Maybe that's why I don't fit in here?

Well, that and the fact I like to bathe. And not with Dr. Bronner's soap, either.

I guess I just have to come to terms with the fact that freedom, as we know it, is dead. Have another round of Fat Tires on me. Let's dedicate them to your empty gestures. And maybe one more to your empty life.

Oh, you want to know just how empty these gestures are? As I write this right now, there is an unbreathable cloud of heavy, sulfurous smoke immovably hovering outside. It looks and sounds like a war zone. People, “sustainably living” by riding their $800 bikes, are cruising back from the City Park fireworks show, throwing their glass empties on the street and shooting roman candles off into the sky, making sure their perfectly coiffed dreadlocks don't catch on fire. The irony! These are the people that work ever-so-hard to try to and slow down that nasty ol' climate change by pedaling it across town, parking the car permanently, and yet they've done more environmental damage in one night than their car would have in a year! That's not a carbon footprint—that's a carbon Tunguska event!

But I don't know why I am suddenly surprised. These hypocritical scumbags are typical of the caring, socially minded Fort Collinsites that surround me at all times. They make sure to give a stern lecture for shopping at Wal-Mart instead of Whole Foods, but to destroy our usually wonderfully clean air quality because you're a drunk douchebag who wants to celebrate our new cap 'n' trade environmental policies, well, by golly, that's just fine! Be sure to blast that Rise Against in your iPod to pump up those liberal tendencies and that angry anarchic fist!

On the flip-side, it's not like the Fort Collins Police care anyway. At all. Sure, they say on their website that they are “increasing enforcement to curtail the problem of illegal fireworks within the city of Fort Collins”, but we all know that is utter bullshit. They are too busy directing traffic out of City Park to enforce the law. Our police force might as well be the security for a Rainbow Family gathering. Actually, I think they are.

But, really, why would they care anyway? It's well-known that here, in this town, you get to pick and choose which laws you want to follow. (Back to that good ol' entitlement!) If you feel a law is “unfair” or might “hurt your feelings" or “stifle your creativity”, then you go right ahead and do it anyway, rights of those it's intruding on be damned! So much for all your Alex Jones-lite theories of a well-maintained police state, you crazy 9/11 truthers! (BUY GOLD!)

But, you know...sitting here, listening to the gentle rhythm of some frat-boy puking on the street while a barrage of Scud-level poppers scare my dog into urinating all over himself, I have finally fully realized just how much of a lost cause all this freedom and America crap is. We don't deserve our freedom. We don't deserve our independence. We don't deserve a holiday to celebrate. While people are fighting and dying all over the world for something as small as a voice to be heard—I'm lookin' in your direction, Iran!—we waste ours on a six-pack of Mothership Wit Organic Wheat Beer and some Black Cats. Our freedom hasn't been taken for granted—it's been raped and left in a ditch to die.

But, on the bright side, maybe Obama's health-care program will sew your kid's useless bloody stump right up! That's gotta be worth something, I guess...

The DAMAGED Hearing BILLY OCEAN'S SOFT ROCK AL FRESCO BISTRO Playlist for 07.01.09

2009-07-01T18:47:00.006-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: STARSHIP - KNEE DEEP IN THE HOOPLA
** denotes listener request

Creed-"With Arms Wide Open" (Dedicated to Michael Jackson)
Starship-"We Built This City" *
Rod Stewart-"Downtown Train"
Sting-"Fields of Gold" **
Bryan Adams-"(Everything I Do) I Do It For You"
Billy Ocean-"Get Out of My Dreams, Get Into My Car"
Starship-"Hearts of the World (Will Understand)" *
Phil Collins and Philip Bailey-"Easy Lover"
Barbara Mandrell and Lee Greenwood-"We're a Perfect Match"
Celine Dion-"Because You Loved Me"
Kenny G-"Songbird (Live)"
Lionel Richie-"Hello"
Jermaine Jackson and Pia Zadora-"When the Rain Begins to Fall"
Billy Ocean-"Loverboy"
Orleans-"Still the One" ** (With commentary)
Starship-"Tomorrow Doesn't Matter Tonight" *
Eddie Money feat. Ronnie Spector-"Take Me Home Tonight"
Michael Bolton-"Save Our Love"
Michael Bolton-"How Am I Supposed to Live Without You"
Starship-"Nothing's Gonna Stop Us Now" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 06.30.09

2009-06-30T21:43:00.003-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: THE TEXAS TORNADOS
** denotes listener request

Jimmy Cliff-"Club Paradise" **
Texas Tornados-"A Little Bit is Better Than Nada" *
The Mavericks with Flaco Jimenez-"All You Ever Do is Bring Me Down"
The Tex-Mex Experience-"Why Don't Cha"
ZZ Top-"Mexican Blackbird"
Texas Tornados-"Is Anybody Going to San Antone?" *
Texas Tornados-"Who Were You Thinkin' Of" *
Trent Summar and the New Row Mob-"It Never Rains in Southern California"
The Blasters-"Dark Night"
Sublime-"Santeria" **
Tito and Tarantula-"The Strange Face of Love"
Texas Tornados-"Hey Baby Que Paso" *
Texas Tornados-"Guacamole" *
Mr. Loco-"Hombre Religioso (Religious Man)"
Ennio Morricone and Peter Tavis-"A Gringo Like Me"
Ween-"Buenas Tardes Amigo"
Hugo Montenegro-"Theme from A FISTFUL OF DOLLARS"
Chingon-"Alacran y Pistolero"
The Cruzados-"Flor de Mal"
Patricia Vonne-"El Cruzado"
Texas Tornados-"Una Mas Cerveza" *
The Monkees-"What Am I Doing Hangin' 'Round?"
Mingo Saldivar y Sus Tremendos Cuatro Espadas-"Rudea de Fuego"
Flaco Jimenez-"Open Up Your Heart"
Steve Jordan-"You've Lost That Loving Feeling"
El Chicano-"Brown Eyed Girl"
Texas Tornados-"Adios Mexico" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 06.23.09

2009-06-27T00:50:00.005-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: Jimmy Buffett - VOLCANO
** denotes listener request

Survivor-"Eye of the Tiger"
Sammy Hagar-"I Can't Drive 55"
Jimmy Buffett-"Fins" *
Eddie Money-"Two Tickets to Paradise"
Ween-"Bananas and Blow"
Garth Brooks-"Two Piña Coladas"
Jimmy Buffett-"Boat Drinks" *
Kenny Chesney-"No Shirt, No Shoes, No Problems" **
Steely Dan-"Hey Nineteen"
Alan Jackson with Jimmy Buffett-"It's Five O'Clock Somewhere" **
Blake Shelton-"Some Beach"
Jimmy Buffett-"Volcano" *
Jim Jamison-"I'm Always Here"
Billy Ocean-"Caribbean Queen (No More Love On the Run)"
Jimmy Buffett-"Cheeseburger in Paradise"
Fat Boys-"Wipeout!"
Vanilla Ice-"Rasta Man"
Spinal Tap-"(Listen to the) Flower People (Reggae Stylee)"
Beach Boys-"Kokomo"
The Lonely Island-"Ras Trent"
Heatbox-"Good Kinda Usin'"
A Tribe Called Quest-"Vibes and Stuff" **
A Tribe Called Quest-"I Left My Wallet in El Segundo (The Fatboy Slim Vampire Mix)"
Rupert Holmes-"Rifles and Rum" **
Rupert Holmes-"Escape (The Piña Colada Song)"
Jimmy Buffett-"Sending the Old Man Home" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

DARK MIRROR: Through the looking glass (ceiling)!

2009-06-20T00:39:00.007-06:00

DARK MIRROR
Starring Lisa Vidal, David Chisum, Christine Lakin
Directed by Pablo Proenza
IFC Films/Cut Glass Productions
Review by Louis Fowler

Being Hispanic myself, I know I can be overly critical of movies with Latinos in the lead role. We tend to allow ourselves to be embarrassed in ways that would make even AMOS 'N' ANDY say “Seriously fellas, take it down a notch.” Mainstream studios tend to cast us as either gang-bangers or hotel maids and when we actually make our own movie, it's for the lowest common denominator, typically crappy shot-on-video comedies with names like CHULOS IN DA TAQUERIA or SPRING BREAK VATOS, with characters that come off like third-rate Homies figures and with half as much personality. What's wrong with casting a Hispanic as just a regular guy? Maybe an accountant? They just happen to be Hispanic...can we move out of this cinematic barrio, just once?

That's why I really enjoy movies like DARK MIRROR. Not only is it a horror movie that just happens to have a Latina in the lead role, but the plot doesn't have anything to do with it! And because of this, I don't even need to talk about it any further. I can happily treat DARK MIRROR as a scare flick on it's own merits, affirmative action be damned! Luckily, DARK MIRROR is a really good movie, so it's actually easy to do. Thanks for doing my job for me.

Former photographer and now stay-at-home mom Deb is trying to get adjusted to her spooky new home and her family, made up of a whiny son and an indifferent husband, aren't really helping. Even though she can't find a day job to save her life, her camera is working overtime, sucking the souls of whomever it takes a picture of. She starts seeing bloodstains, shadows, footprints and phantom doors in mirrors, which very creepily disappear in and out of her life.

But, really, that doesn't even cover half of what's going on here, and that's why DARK MIRROR works so well: throughout the movie it never once lets you know what it is or what it wants to be. Is it a ghost story? A serial killer flick? A psychological thriller? Deftly mixing a handful of honestly scary moments with one truly unpredictable twist after another, director Pablo Proenza excels in the type of classic filmmaking Polanski did in the 60s—the kind you wish Polanski himself would return to. The whole thing is a thinking man's mind-screw with no easy answers.

Sadly, the film will probably draw too many unfair comparisons to last year's Keifer Sutherland stinker MIRRORS, which is way off the mark, not to mention wholly unoriginal. (Geez, it's like you can't make horror movies with mirrors in them anymore now—thanks Jack Bauer!) Unlike MIRRORS, which was just a whole string of boring cliches bound together with a forced aura of ominousness by director Alexander Aja, DARK MIRROR is an actual genuine attempt at trying to screw with you while scaring you. It's not trying to please the genre crowd with random jump scares—it's trying to tell a story and lets that story unfold. Why is that so wrong?

The cast is great, especially Lisa Vidal as the aforementioned Deb—it's pretty much her show to carry and, when the ending is uncovered, without giving away any spoilers, you'll fully realize the whole power of her performance, because, man, I had no clue. None. (Also of note, veteran character actress Lupe Ontiveros has a great little cameo as Deb's mom; I mention this because it freaks me out just how much she looks and sounds like my own grandma who's also named—DUN DUN DUUUUUN—Lupe. It's like looking into my own dark mirror, if you will.)

With so much horror this year just absolutely scraping the depths—one teen-marketed pile of crap after another that just continues to infuriate me—it's great to actually sit down and enjoy a movie like DARK MIRROR: a mature, thought-out scare film that doesn't talk down to me or treat me like an imbecile. That's all I ask.

RISE OF THE SCARECROWS: The return of backyard cinema!

2009-06-20T00:28:00.004-06:00

RISE OF THE SCARECROWS
Starring Steven Joseph Adams, Cedric Howard, Jeremy Weiskotten
Directed by Geno McGahee and Jeremy Weiskotten
Tempe Entertainment
Review by Louis Fowler

As soon as this movie starts and that wonderful shot-on-video looks washes over the screen, a wave of nostalgia showers me. Growing up in the mid-90s, my local neighborhood indie video store was packed with early Tempe and EI flicks by the likes of Todd Sheets and JR Bookwalter. All shot in their backyards on shoestring budgets with hand-held cameras, they were inspirational works of art to me.

Now, with digital video making everything look so slick, to see a homemade movie like this again already puts RISE OF THE SCARECROWS on my good side. It's so random and so wonderfully overacted that you can't take your off off the screen, you can't stop watching. You want to see what happens next, you want to try to figure out what's going on. While in a mainstream film that would be classified as a bad thing, here, it makes the film even better.

A Tracy Morgan lookalike living in the woods tells us that the local sheriff killed some construction workers a few years back and, seeking revenge, they've came back as demon-possessed zombie scarecrows. So far, so good, but directors Geno McGahee and Jeremy Weiskotten aren't happy with this straight horror set-up, so they throw in ample helpings of insanity: a chunky jerk looking at tranny porn air-punches his Vietnamese wife with a phone, an obese kid flips off a local curmudgeon trying to make some coffee and an Amish-ish fellow trying to sell “taters” gets his TV tray of sellable veggies flipped over for no reason by an a-hole city slicker. At times I felt like I was watching a GUMMO fan-film, and I mean that as a compliment. Seriously.

RISE OF THE SCARECROWS, for all its limitations, is extremely inventive and bizarre and crazy and random and fun and memorable enough to warrant numerous late-night viewings. Just like those late-nights when I was a kid, staying up watching these flicks, then going into my own backyard the next day with a video-camera to emulate them. Keep the dream alive, fellas!

DARK REEL: I need a new screener, ASAP!

2009-06-19T23:24:00.005-06:00

DARK REEL
Starring Lance Henrikson, Edward Furlong, Tiffany Shepis,
Directed by Josh Eisenstadt
Barnholtz Entertainment
Review by Louis Fowler

With most movies, there is a point A to point B. You know the tone, you know the plot and you know what to expect. These are safe films, these are crowd-pleasers. You're allowed to get comfortable. You're allowed to turn off you brain, enjoy the explosions, stabbing and boobs. You know what you're getting, and it's typically all you want.

But, some movies just want to screw with you. To mess with you. They are like that annoying five-year-old little sister that puts her grimy hand an inch from your face and says “Can't do anything, not touching you!” That's what DARK REEL is. One second you think it's a noir murder mystery, the next a goofy Hollywood satire and then a brutal slasher flick. It never settles for a straight categorization and, while maddening at first, eventually becomes not only welcomed, but damn near endearing.

DARK REEL starts off with a heinous, limb-chopping murder in classic black and white Hollywood. A young actress, thinking she's getting a screen test, is cut up for the camera as the credits role. It's gory and horrific. It sets a tone. This is going to be a HOLLYWOOD BABYLON mystery, right? Right? Well...no.

It moves forward fifty-or-so years to the apartment of lonely genre fan Adam (a sleepy-eyed Edward Furlong) who wins a walk-on role in a pirate movie starring Cassie Blue (the always entertaining Tiffany Shepis). The crew is filled with one comically exaggerated character after another—including a Shakespearean leading man obsessed with eating onions—and, if this collection of loons wasn't enough, the movie is band-rolled by suicidal studio head Lance Henrikson.

Cassie and Adam hit it off immediately—albeit wholly unrealistically—just as a slasher in an extremely spooky 'n' flashy “starlet” mask starts offing the cast one by one in a way similar to that of the aforementioned murdered actress. Meanwhile, veteran character actor Tracey Walter shows up as a creepy paparazzi, Adam and Cassie have hot sex and Adam starts to see the ghost of the dead starlet on the pirate movie's dailies.

So, just when they are going to delve deeper into the mystery...with thirty minutes left to go, UGH, the screener craps out on me. I tried in in three DVD players and an XBOX 360 and nothing. Zero. Adam and Cassie are watching dailies, footsteps, then a frozen screen. NOOOOOO!

The questions that are running through my head right now! Who is the masked killer? Why is there a ghost? Why did the studio guy kill her? Is Furlong coming down off a week-long tweak or is he crazy? Will he bang Tiffany Shepis again? Was this all an elaborate joke? Are detectives Tony Todd and Rena Riffel secretly stripper “hot cops” who will rip off their velcro-pants in the final scene? WHAT IS GOING ON? WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN??

I may never know, and that really, really brings me down, man. I immediately went to my local Blockbuster, and they didn't have it. I almost reinstated my NetFlix account. If I wasn't a good, law-abiding citizen, I'd have illegally downloaded it. Instead, it looks like I am going to buy a copy off of Amazon when I get a few bucks...I need to finish this movie.

From what I did see though, this is the type of flick that you are completely glued to, eyes unblinking, jaw agape. It's such a mixture of good mystery and cheesy horror, walking a thin line between broad comedy and brutal horror, almost creating a genre unto itself. Everything in REEL seems to be in its own reality, either over-exaggerated or mean-spirited, sometimes both, but always entirely entertaining.

But even more than the story, what makes the movie so watchable are the actors; the performances are downright bizarre, in a good way as well. Everyone seems to be in different movies, or not even knowing that the camera is rolling. Henrikson is gleefully entering the Christopher Walken self-parody phase of his career, while Furlong seems to be making it all up as he goes along. Tony Todd (the CANDYMAN himself) and Rena Riffel (the best part of SHOWGIRLS, if you ask me) show up as a duo of cop-ish types with quirky personalities that steal the show everytime they are on-screen and, most incredibly, the always watchable Tiffany Shepis delivers the only real dramatic performance of the film, but I don't know if she knows it. This casting is a recipe for a bizarro classic!

Not only do you need to see DARK REEL, I need to see it again as well. I almost want to find or create a forum of some sort to discuss it; I want to know how other people are going to interpret it, because I am still at a loss! I'll keep you updated...

The (All-Vinyl) DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 06.16.09

2009-06-16T23:59:00.002-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: THE APPLE - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
** denotes listener request

Julie Andrews-"The Sound of Music"
Grace Kennedy and Allan Love-"BIM" *
Mabel King-"Don't Nobody Bring Me No Bad News"
Stars On 45-"Stars On 45 (Medley 2)"
Bee Gees-"Nights on Broadway (Live)"
Grace Kennedy-"Coming" *
Grace Kennedy-"I Found Me" *
The Assembled Multitude-"Overture from TOMMY"
Electric Light Orchestra-"Mr. Blue Sky"
Coven-"One Tin Soldier (The Legend of Billy Jack)"
The Monkees-"Gonna Buy Me a Dog"
Floyd Cramer-"I'm a Believer"
Allan Love-"The Apple" *
Mary Hylan-"Speed" *
The Assembled Multitude-"While My Guitar Gently Weeps"
Jose Feliciano-"Let It Be"
The Carpenters-"Help!"
Hank Williams, Jr.-"Norwegian Wood (This Bird Has Flown)"
Zamfir-"Yesterday"
Vladek Sheybal and Ray Shell-"Showbizness" *
Mongo Santamaria-"Son of a Preacherman"
Baja Marimba Band-"The Gay Ranchero"
Al Hirt-"Talkin' 'Bout That River"
Bob Swerer-"Watermelon Man"
Claudine Longet-"Make It With You"
Zamfir-"Your Song"
Joss Ackland, Mary Hylan and George Gilmour-"Child of Love" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

BLACK DEVIL DOLL: Black is beautiful! Power to the puppet!

2009-06-15T19:16:00.009-06:00

BLACK DEVIL DOLL
Starring Heather Murphy, Natasha Talonz, Christine Svendsen
Directed by Jonathan Lewis
Rotten Cotton
Review by Louis Fowler

I like my movies like I like my coffee: strong, black and violating dead white women.

OK, so that's a lie. I don't like coffee. But I do love the hilariously daring and viciously offensive low-budget blaxploitation-horror-comedy BLACK DEVIL DOLL, which achieves all these aforementioned things in spades, no pun intended. I can easily say, without reservation, this is going to be my favorite film of the year. This isn't some novelty genre mash-up: this is a new trash classic that will become the ultimate party film—even if that party is just you and your equally geeky cine-buddy sitting around downing grape Shastas and scarfing ~~fried~~ grilled chicken.

But where is the press for it? Where is the fandom from the genre community? Is your liberal white guilt telling you over and over to ignore it? On many of the horror websites and magazines I write for, everyone is creaming their jeans over such super-serious slash ultra-pretentious masturbatory fare as the brutally graphic (and brutally unlikable) torture-fest MARTYRS or the emo-Swedish pedophile-vamp downer LET THE RIGHT ONE IN. Literally...creaming. While I'm sure those are “classy” meditations on man's inhumanity to man and so on, sweet Lord are they boring! You can have them! They are not “entertaining”. No matter how you slice them, they are struggles and chores to sit through. You watch them once and forget about them. You set it and forget it!

Sure, when I watch horror films I like my blood and gore as much as the next guy, but I also want laughs. And Russ Meyer boobs. And offensive racial humor. And, if possible, some salad tossing. Why is this so difficult to get? Why is this so much to ask for? And why are films that deliver this looked down upon? BLACK DEVIL DOLL has more inventiveness, style and pure love for the blaxploitation 'n' horror 'n' nudie genres than any of those recently lauded films—or, well, really any films in current circulation really—combined. DOLL goes out of it's way to entertain you, to shock you, to make you laugh. It succeed on every level. I can already tell you're gonna hate it...

A militant black activist, just put to death in the Big House for killing numerous Caucasian women, is miraculously brought back to life in a plastic “dummy” that resembles Lester (of Willie Tyler fame) after reading the complete works of Iceberg Slim. The doll belongs to the wonderfully voluptuous Heather, who has no problem accepting the Black Devil Doll into her heart and womb, as they have numerous carnal couplings that not only rivals but obliterates the puppet-sex in TEAM AMERICA. Soon enough, the Doll's blood-lust for dead white women returns and Heather invites her equally mega-super-bosomed pals over for some car-washing and showering and bathing and boob cleanings. The amount of puppet-semen spilled during these scenes is immeasurable but very important to the plot. Very. You'll never stick your hand up a puppet's ass the same way again!

In the past, I've usually had to go to Troma for this kind of hilariously sick entertainment and, to be fair, POULTRYGEIST was my favorite film of last year. But, as a generation weaned on this type of low-to-no budget horror-humor comes into it's own—a cooler generation with a working fringe sense of humor and an understanding of genre before the TWILIGHT revolution—we're starting to see more young filmmakers make their own push-it-to-the-limit flicks. And leading the pack is Jonathan Lewis, the director who I am convinced is the bloody butt-baby of Rudy Ray Moore and Lloyd Kaufman. (I'm sure he'll take that as a compliment.) Get out of this guy's way, because he is gonna cut you!

Now I know that the racial humor will be the ultimate sticky-wicket for most viewers. Most of today's kids have been raised by a media and pop culture that refuses to let us laugh at our differences and stereotypes, except in the simplest of terms, like, say, in movies such as SOUL PLANE or whatever the Wayans Brothers are currently excreting into our cineplexes. It's never anything, you know, deep. Never anything that pushes the limits. BLACK DEVIL DOLL doesn't push the limits, it pisses on them.

It's almost like you can't get away with destroying boundaries—especially racial boundaries—anymore because of the hyper-sensitive WHITE politicos who think that we should keep this stuff hidden behind a curtain, never to be seen, never to be acknowledged, even in the name of subversive comedy. They're the ones who chastise Chris Rock for being too “edgy”. I like to think that this is director Lewis's, who is black, mind you, way of gleefully shoving his ebony middle-finger in their faces, telling them to get their asses back to their hypocritical gated community if they can't take the joke. Close the shades, lock the doors and put 9-1-1 on the speed dial, because the scary black man is laughing at you—not with you—and having his way with your daughter! (Oh God, I don't even want to go into what the feminists will think about this movie...needless to say they'll be twice as humorless about it.)

Contrary to what Mr. Scott-Heron believes, the revolution will most definitely be televised and this will be shown on repeat. See BLACK DEVIL DOLL by any means necessary or be left behind, honky!

THE LANDLORD: If you watched this movie, you'd be home by now!

2009-06-15T18:58:00.005-06:00

THE LANDLORD
Starring Derek Dziak, Rom Barkhordar, Michelle Courvais
Directed by Emil Hyde
Massive Ego Productions
Review by Louis Fowler

This seals the deal. I'm officially through with Hollywood's idea of a horror-comedy. Sorry, but they just don't “get it” the way the current crop of shoestring-budget filmmakers do. First BLACK DEVIL DOLL sets my mood, and now, THE LANDLORD—the best demon-possession real estate comedy since BEETLEJUICE—has cemented this. I laughed so hard I dribbled cola down the front of my pants and it looked like I wet myself. And then I did wet myself. But I didn't care. I happily just wallowed in my sticky-crotchness, guffawing like an imbecile. It's takes one Hell of a funny film to zap away whatever pride I had in appearance away like that!

Archetypal slacker Tyler runs a sweet apartment building—hardwood floors, spacious living room, lots of windows, all bills paid—that also just happens to house a pair of demons, one a dog-faced Queen of the Dead and the other her cynical lackey, Rabisu, who both feast on the apartment's tenants. While all this is going on, Tyler's rotten-cop sister has recruited other demons, who are to be walking among us, to do her job for her: they kill and eat drug-dealers and other criminal types while the cops collect the dirty money. The trouble starts when a cute chick moves into the building and Tyler falls for her, much to the chagrin of the demonic duo.

The heart of the movie is in the hilarious banter and genuine camaraderie between Tyler and the Queen's slave Rabisu. Everytime they are on-screen together, bickering like an old demonic Odd Couple, the affable Tyler having to deal with Rabisu's bloody screw-ups and Rabisu's growing disdain for his boss—it's pure comic gold. I am sincerely wishing, hoping and praying that director Emil Hyde develops a TV pilot for these two; imagine THREE'S COMPANY meets BUFFY but, only, you know, funny! Better yet, how about a road-trip flick with these two? Whatever you want, Mr. Hyde, I don't care—I just want more of these two characters! This is a franchise comedy team not seen since the likes of, geez, Farley and Spade. No lie. But, until that follow-up comes along though, I'll happily re-sign my lease with THE LANDLORD, and I don't even mind not getting my security deposit back.

ONE-EYED MONSTER: A Ron Jeremy Double-Sized Double Feature, Part Two!!!

2009-06-15T00:50:00.003-06:00

ONE-EYED MONSTER
Starring Ron Jeremy, Veronica Hart, Amber Benson
Directed by Adam Fields
Liberation Entertainment
Review by Louis Fowler

Why isn't Ron Jeremy a bigger (no pun intended) star?

Sure, you can go ahead and blather on about morals, decency and all that other stuff that people typically say stops porn stars from crossing over into the mainstream, but Jeremy is already such a sellable household name that, if given one shot, like a sitcom, for instance, he could have a second career—which I'm sure is actually the first career he's always wanted. Sure, he'll always be referenced for his 9 ¾ inch penis, but hey, there could be worse stereotypes.

Either way, the hilarious horror-comedy ONE-EYED MONSTER is a step in the right erection, um, I mean direction.

While shooting an unassuming skin flick in the mountains, while he is urinating, an alien life form falls from the sky and possesses Ron Jeremy's penis—and only his penis. The elongated shaft, fueled with a thirst for blood, goes on a killing spree, invading mouths and other orifices, looking for a host to impregnate. Jeremy dies off quickly while the detached member scuttles around the cabin, burrowing under the snow and darting through the air, offing (and getting off on) the crew one-by-one, hilariousness ensuing.

It's really great to see that director Adam Fields has fun with this, riffing on numerous horror clichés—such as when a slimy substance drips from the ceiling, only to be revealed as, well, I'm sure you know—subtly parodying now-famous set-pieces from other invader flicks like ALIEN, THE THING, TREMORS, SLITHER...well, I guess any monster movie of the past thirty years that feature a smooth, cylindrical object entering the human body with sploshy results.

After a string of recent lower-budgeted horror flicks “starring” Jeremy, coupled with the probably-already-is-a-porno title, you walk into MONSTER expecting something totally different than what you actually get, things such as high production values, great special effects, competent acting, restrained sex, humor that works...basically everything that's the complete opposite of just about every porno film in existence! It's all the thrill, none of the spill! I appreciate that.

And while, yes, the cast is expendable enough, my main complaint—and really only complaint—would be not enough Jeremy. When he's on the screen, delivering his groan-inducing one-liners, he's so likable that you want him to survive, maybe even go head-to-head with his own member. And let's not forget his great chemistry with Veronica Hart—speaking of which, I want to make special note about the female porn veteran here: sure, everyone talks about Helen Mirren being a hot granny, but, sorry, Veronica Hart gives her a run for her money! GILFS of the world unite!

ONE-EYED MONSTER is one of the funniest horror-comedies to come along in quite a while. It's so good to be able to relax and enjoy a monster movie that just wants to have fun without any winking shaky camera-work pretension or needless dramatic attempts at an Oscar clip. MONSTER want you to just sit back and take it all in—not too deep—but just enough to make you smile.

PORN-O-RAMA: A Ron Jeremy Double-Sized Double Feature, Part One!!!

2009-06-15T00:29:00.006-06:00

PORN-O-RAMA: ON SET WITH PORN'S BIGGEST STARS
Hosted by Ron Jeremy and Alexis DeVell
Directed by Paul Norman
Private Screening Collection
Review by Louis Fowler

I know I may be alone in this, but I am much more fascinated by the world of porn filmmaking than I am by the actual watching of porn films. Let's be honest: most skin flicks are boring, tedious affairs that most people don't need to watch longer than five minutes. If you've seen one porn, you've pretty much seen them all. But the deep inside world of porn, the ins-n-outs, so to speak...well that's utterly enthralling to me.

PORN-O-RAMA is a five episode docu-tainment-umentary about the triple-X business, but, from the point of view of the industry, which is something you rarely, if ever see. It's very much like a “sexy” episode of ENTERTAINMENT TONIGHT (Ejaculation Tonight? Excess Hollywood? The Inside Her?) crossed with an ExstenZ infomercial, yet all filmed with that obvious pornographer's touch: in the first three minutes of the first episode, we've already had awesomely bad synth music, cheap video titling, minimal sets and at least ten mullets, four of them on women. This is what TV would be like if it were ran by the adult industry..and I like it!

Datedly filmed in the early 90s, hosts Ron Jeremy and Alexis DeVell interview “stars” in only the charmingly shallowest of ways—most questions end up being “Do you like anal sex?” and “Do you ever squirt on film?”—and while they aren't the most interesting of queries, it's the answers that are intriguing. To see dead-eyed actresses trying to give a sexy answer while simultaneously crying for help....well, that's great entertainment!

Highlights include: the Tommy Hilfiger-esque Peter North, in a zombie-like state, describing his “pop-shot” status; Ron Jeremy pointing out some “crusty” semen on an actress' chest; a drunk actor, misusing his fingers, causes an actress (with very bad skin) to internally bleed; Massengill vinegar and water douches receive prime product placement; an angry director quote-worthingly says that an actor's pre-mature ejaculation is like “leaving the office four hours early”—and still, I must reiterate, this is just the first episode! There's still four more to go!

The remaining episodes deal with how the porn stars families deal with topics such as if their family knows what they do, other jobs they might have and how they deal with messy anal discharges. Classy! Jeremy is an affable host, as always, getting in a few good zingers here and there, but co-host DeVell is a total non-entity, with her displeasure of even being in the same vicinity as Jeremy quite evident. Pretty bitchy, if you ask me, but, hey, where is she now? Exactly.

Actually, that's one of the funniest things about PORNORAMA: the men interviewed, most notably Peter North, Tom Byron and the aforementioned Jeremy, are still working, hard, while none of the actresses, with probably the exception of Shayla LeVaux, were ever heard from again! In a surely unrealized act of meta-film, most of the action seems to take place on director Paul Norman's porn films, which he appears to be shooting concurrently to this doc. (Norman, by the way, is probably most famous for directing EDWARD PENISHANDS.) A case of shameless self-promotion? Yes, but, if it works for mainstream film, add some boobs and it'll work twice as good for porn! Too bad it didn't catch on...

DEVASTATOR TOUR '09: Baltimore, Hungover Gourmet-Style!

2009-06-10T13:03:00.005-06:00

DEVASTATOR TOUR '09: Baltimore, Hungover Gourmet-Style!
By Louis Fowler

A lot of times, when you take a vacation, you fall in love with a city in such a way that you actually consider moving there, simply because it's not the boring lame old city you're currently stuck in. It's like falling in love with another girl while you're in a serious, committed relationship with another. You're a jerk, you're a prick, you're a monster and you want a way out.

I couldn't help but feel that way about Baltimore. It will forever be my mistress city. Sorry, OKC.

If you remember, I had crashed at Atomic TV impresario Tom Warner's house the previous night. He had left for work early, leaving me to my own devices. Luckily my devices included more sleeping. I woke up just in time to catch a shower and wait for my good friend, Dan Taylor, of HUNGOVER GOURMET fame, to swing by and get me. He had promised a day or so of food, folks and fun, and, yes, he delivered on that McDonaldsy trifecta.

I expected Dan to be a short squat fellow, maybe weighing in at a deuce, deuce and a half, at best. I mean, c'mon: he does a food blog AND loves B-movies. Look at me for further proof of this stereotype. Sadly, Dan is actually a very tall, mostly in-shape fellow who cuts a very mild-mannered, Clark Kent-ish presence; very calming, very relaxing and very safe. I'm sure that even when he's angry and cursing, he's very soothing when he does it. I wish he'd record a series of relaxation tapes to help people quit smoking.

Being the Hungover Gourmet, of course, I charged him with one mission: get me some food that is not only wholly representative of Baltimore cuisine, but food that, because I'm on vacation and my wife and doctor are nowhere in sight, might also kill me. Thankfully, that's all Baltimore food.

With his adorable toddler in tow, we hit up an area of town known as “Corn Beef Row”. I would love to move to a city with a Corn Beef Row. The one deli Dan wanted to take me to was supposedly extremely famous for their corn beef, it was what they did best. But, as we trudged through their muddy parking lot, a guy carrying out a fifteen-foot party sub told us that they were closed for renovations, but that they should be open in about an hour.

OK, so when have you known renovations to finish in a hour? Something was fishy and, as we later learned, we were right! Apparently, earlier on the local news, the establishment had been shut down by the city for a horrendous rat infestation.

And all it took to clear it up was sixty minutes.

Now I don't mind a little rat feces—if you've seen the places in Mexico I've eaten tacos out of, you'd know that about me—but I was hungry for corn beef, dammit, so we walked up the road to the second best corn beef place in town, Lenny's.

Lenny's is a lot like your high school cafeteria if it were run by exceedingly surly employees who want you to get your damn food and get the hell out of their damn line. NOW! That's the kind of service I like though: no nonsense, no small-talk, all business. I wish more restaurants would follow this lead. “Here's you're food, later bro.”

The corn beef at Lenny's, by the way, was phenomenal and I really wanted to order two of them. If Dan was a fat ass, I honestly would have, but, instead, he had to be fit, so I had to pretend like one was enough. But I could've had two. Easy.

***

After a short battery recharge, we headed to the hipper part of town—yes, hipper than Corn Beef Row. The hip part of town that houses cool bars, cool eateries, cool resale shops, cool curio stores and, best of all, my Mecca, the cool book store known as Atomic Books.

Now while I'm sure the Atomic Books of yore, back when it was dirty 'n' scuzzy 'n' nasty was really something to behold, this new era of Atomic Books ain't nothing to scoff at. I wish this was a chain, I wish there was one of these in my town. I would spend so much money there. I almost did spend all of my money there. After all, where else can I get zines fresh off the press anymore? Please tell me! There is no place, besides Atomic, to do just that.

Looking at their racks, filled with one indie mag after another, I was hit with a rush of overwhelmingness. I was in sensory overload. Hurriedly, as if they were going to disappear at any moment, I picked up copies of CONSPIRACY JOURNAL, CASHIERS DU CINEMART and CINEMA SEWER, among others.

I also bought my new favorite shirt of all time. Screw you New York Tourist Board!

Afterwards, on a whim, we also stopped at a thrift store that had a window full of dollar records. As many of you know, Louis + Dollar Records = Destruction to Your Hearing on Tuesday! Yes, for only a measly buck each, I found such treasures as:

* The Fat Boys' maxi-single for their hit “Wipeout!”, featuring the heads of the Beach Boys on the cover! They're visibly embarrassed!

* HEAR 'N AID, the hair metal answer to Live Aid, featuring such rock luminaries as Carmine and Vinny Appice, Chris Holmes, Buck Dharma, Yngwie Malmsteen and George Lynch, all in an effort to end African famine. They failed.

* “Sexcrime (Nineteen Eighty-Four)”, another maxi-single, this time by Eurythmics and released as a tie-in to their soundtrack to the bleak, hopeless 1984 adaptation of Orwell's novel. Yes, Eurythmics did the music. WTF?

* In my attempt to collect everything Village People, I found a break-dancing fad tie-in, appropriately called BREAK MACHINE, produced by Jacques Morali, the studio Svengali responsible for creating and bring the Village People to fame. The album, by the way, brought me to tears.

* And, best of all, a three-record collection called GARY OWENS MUSIC WEEKEND 7/2/88, which was, I'm guessing, Gary Owens' weekend music show, pre-recorded and ready for lazy radio stations to spin on a Saturday afternoon. It has hits from Chicago, Toto, Debbie Gibson, a Moody Blues “Mini-Concert”, interviews with Robin Leach and Dan Aykroyd, Guess what? Next time I go on vacation, this is what you DAMAGED Hearing listeners are getting. Lucky you.

On the way back to Dan's house, by the way, we saw a truck with a spray-painted mural of Freddy Krueger on the tailgate. It was awesome and I would love a tattoo of it on my chest.

***

When I asked Dan to show me the best Baltimore has to offer, it came with a caveat, of sorts: I wanted to try some big, juicy, fried, zesty crab cakes. Maybe you Baltimorons take them for granted because you can walk into any corner convenience store and get them right off the rack where, in other parts of the country hot dogs would be, but for me, it's a big deal. I want and need crab cakes. I want and need a city where they are available to me at all times.

I can't rightly remember if Dan said that he'd been there before or not, but his pick for the most representative Baltimore restaurant, which, I can honestly say is the ultimate travelogue, a living mural, for all of you planning a visit to the Charm City: Michael's Steak and Lobster House, in the dread town of Dundalk. It is also my new favorite (white people) place of all time to eat. No foolin'!

The building is highly unassuming, almost dive-like. Wood paneling, the kind you find in your downstairs rumpus room, covers the walls and, like Lenny's, the staff are surly and don't take any of your crap. Dan and I went with SMILE HON, YOU'RE IN BALTIMORE editor William Tandy, who I'm sure after five minutes of meeting me was all like “Settle down, dude. You'll get your crab-cakes! Get a grip!”. But he was nice enough not to say it out loud.

Since I was on vacation, I though, hey, what the Hell, I'm going to get an app. (Appetizer, for those not in the know.) As I asked of charmingly Flo-like waitress to describe clams casino, she threw me a chuckle that said “Ha. Who is this yokel?” Regardless, I ordered a plate of clams casino, which are chopped-up clams, mixed with bacon and sautéed in butter, then served in a half-shell.

In short, it's the greatest (white people) appetizer I've ever had. I wish they served this in movie theaters. I wish that Wal-Mart had these next to the check-out line. I would pop these like there was no tomorrow, which, if I did, I'm sure there wouldn't be. For my main course, I ordered the crab cakes, of course, and while they were great, I still wanted some more clams casino. I wanted to try some oysters casino. I wanted everything served casino-style. I almost sent my crab cakes back, asking for them to be recooked, casino-style, I don't care what the cost.

As we ate, I absorbed the wonderfully unpretentious, insanely non-hipster surroundings. These are the types of places I adore. A SOPRANOS-like father and son duo argue about the price of a martini, while men in tracksuits and gold-chains laugh as they try to eat as much $16.95 40 oz. Porterhouse as possible. These are my people. These are people I don't have to impress and they don't feel the need to impress me. If the Decemberists were to walk in there, I think we would all have a good old fashioned beat-down on them, and the cops would look the other way. I want to move to Dundalk. I want to be a Dundalkian.

The ride home was a belt-loosening one, the slumber on Dan's guest room daybed, heavenly. I needed all the sleep I could get: not only in the morning were pork rolls waiting for me, but so was the city of Cleveland. Cinema Wasteland...look out!

The (All-Vinyl) DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 06.09.09

2009-06-10T12:30:00.005-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: GET CRAZY - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
** denotes listener request

Bob Dylan-"Gonna Change My Way of Thinking"
Sparks-"Get Crazy" *
Grace Jones-"Nightclubbing"
Jude Cole-"Back to School"
Dave Grusin-"Ascension to Virginity"
The English Beat-"Save It for Later"
The Ramones-"Chop Suey" *
Lou Reed-"Little Sister" *
Mary Hopkin-"Those Were the Days"
Jose Feliciano-"Hey Jude"
Malcolm McDowell-"Hot Shot" *
Aerosmith-"Kings and Queens"
Queen-"Spread Your Wings"
Steve Perry-"Oh Sherrie"
John Cafferty-"Heart's On Fire"
Fear-"Hoochie Coochie Man" *
Rodney Dangerfield-"Twist and Shout"
Riz Ortolani-"Cargo Culte - Finale del Film"
Lydia-"We Are One (CALIGULA Love Theme)"
Chuck Mangione-"Pina Colada"
Marshall Crenshaw-"It's Only a Movie" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

DAMAGED Goods: Doritos Late Night -- Tacos At Midnight!!!

2009-06-04T21:06:00.003-06:00

For years, with all their undeliverable promises of flavor, I've learned never to trust a chip's name, especially when they put the flavor in that name. I have been burned repeatedly so, when I see a new flavor of Doritos with the word “taco” in the name, I circle it apprehensively like a dog that's been kicked one too many times by it's drunken, abusive owner. Yeah, tacos, right? I bet. If anything they probably just sprinkled some Lawry's taco seasoning in a bag, shook it up and sealed it. Right?

Wrong!

I can't believe it but whoever the scientists are that developed this new “Tacos At Midnight”, let's give them the Nobel Prize! Sorry, cancer doctors! I don't know how they did it, but they have successfully created a tortilla chip that really, honestly, successfully tastes like a taco. A real taco—cheese, shell, meat, seasonings, maybe some lettuce and tomatoes, it's all here! It's like eating that Wonka candy that is a whole meal (the one that turned that chick into a blueberry), only instead of Oompa Loompas, the factory is run by Mexicans! Tiny little Mexicans who sing “Hola, dola, hoopity doo, you quiero tacos, how about you?” I want to win this Doritos factory from Mr. Guillermo Wonka. I want to bathe in these Doritos. I want to marry these Doritos. I want to pro-create with them and have little baby Tacos At Midnight.

Actually, now I just want some tacos...

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 06.02.09

2009-06-04T20:45:00.003-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artists--BRITNEY SPEARS and JANDEK!
** denotes listener request

Enya-"Orinoco Flow (Sail Away)" **
Britney Spears-"Oops...I Did It Again" *
Apollo 440-"Stop the Rock"
Shiny Toy Guns-"Le Disko"
Kylie-"Come Into My World"
Robbie Williams-"Rock DJ"
Spice Girls-"Say You'll Be There"
Britney Spears-"(You Drive Me) Crazy (The Stop Remix)" *
Britney Spears-"Sometimes" *
Paula Abdul-"Forever Your Girl"
Natasha Bedingfield-"These Words"
Shania Twain-"That Don't Impress Me Much"
Britney Spears-"Lucky" *
Jandek-"Oh Jenny" *
Paul Anka-"The Lovecats"
The Free Design-"You Could Be Born Again"
Mitch and Mickey-"A Kiss At the End of the Rainbow"
The Langley Schools Music Project-"Space Oddity"
Vanessa Daou-"The Poem" **
Morphine-"Cure for Pain"
Jandek-"Naked in the Afternoon" *
The Shaggs-"My Pal Foot-Foot"
The Legendary Stardust Cowboy-"Rockit to Stardom"
Wildman Fischer-"The Taster"
Shooby Taylor-"Life Every Voice and Sing"
Wesley Willis-"Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers"
Jello Biafra-"Shut Up, Be Happy"
Jandek-"Time and Space" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 05.26.09

2009-05-27T22:30:00.003-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: Morris Day & the Time - ICE CREAM CASTLE
** denotes listener request

Carmen-"Who's in the House"
Morris Day & the Time-"Ice Cream Castles" *
Rockwell-"Somebody's Watching Me"
Michael Jackson-"Black or White"
Bobby Brown-"On Our Own"
Bee Gees-"Nights on Broadway"
DJ Kool-"Let Me Clear My Throat"
Ol' Dirty Bastard-"Shimmy Shimmy Ya"
Ice Cube with George Clinton-"Bop Gun (One Nation)"
Tupac and Dr. Dre-"California Love"
Morris Day & the Time-"My Drawers" *
Zapp and Roger-"Computer Love" **
Vanity-"7th Heaven" **
Parliament-"Give Up the Funk (Tear the Roof Off the Sucker)" **
Mary Jane Girls-"In My House"
702-"Pootie Tangin'"
Morris Day & the Time-"Chili Sauce" *
Morris Day & the Time-"Jungle Love" *
Prince-"The Most Beautiful Girl in the World"
Jesse Johnson feat. Sly Stone-"Crazay"
Eddie Murphy-"Party All the Time"
Morris Day & the Time-"If the Kid Can't Make You Come" *

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

The DAMAGED Hearing Playlist for 05.19.09

2009-05-19T15:28:00.003-06:00

* denotes selections from this week's featured artist/album: HEAVY METAL - Original Motion Picture Soundtrack
** denotes listener request

Aerosmith-"Sweet Emotion"
Sammy Hagar-"Heavy Metal" *
Amoraboy-"Sweet Kung Fu O'Mine (Guns'N'Roses vs. Carl Douglas)"
Beastie Boys-"Brass Monkey"
Riggs-"Heartbeat" *
Devo-"Working in the Coalmine" *
DJ Schmolli-"Shut Up Brooklyn Sandman (Ting Tings vs. Metallica vs. Beastie Boys)"
Dead Milkmen-"Bitchin' Camaro" **
Jim Jamison-"I'm Always Here"
Blake Shelton-"Some Beach"
Jimmy Buffett-"Cheeseburger in Paradise"
McDonald's Promo 1979
Cheap Trick-"Reach Out" *
Don Felder-"Heavy Metal (Takin' a Ride)" *
Dwight David-"The Last Dragon"
Stephanie Mills-"Bit By Bit"
Jimmy Scarlett-"You Can Be a Garbage Pail Kid"
Sammy Hagar-"The Winner Takes It All"
DeBarge-"Rhythm of the Night" **
Blue Oyster Cult-"Veteran of the Psychic Wars" *
Michael Boddicker-"Buckaroo Banzai (End Credits / Long Version)"
Donald Fagan-"True Companion" *
Journey-"Open Arms" *
Diamond Rio-"One More Day (Dale Earnhardt Tribute Mix)"

Miss this week's episode of DAMAGED Hearing? Send an email to damagedhearing@gmail.com to subscribe to the download and never miss an episode again!

DEVASTATOR TOUR '09: Bang, that's wild!

2009-05-17T17:05:00.005-06:00

DEVASTATOR TOUR '09: Bang, that's wild!
By Louis Fowler

It's funny: since I've met Tom, Scott and Melissa, I've had about ten or so dreams with them in it. The one I had recently involved them inviting a bunch of low-level porn stars over to my house, but both Tom and Scott were too tired to hang out so they went to sleep. Disgusted by me and my unsightly, unattractive face and body, the porn stars went to sleep too. So, I just kinda sat there, reading a Spider-Man comic that didn't exist and waking up wishing that it did.

Baltimore's Tom Warner and Scott Huffines had been heroes of mine since high school, when Rod “Formerly HITCH, now BOOKGASM” Lott lent me copies of their public access TV show ATOMIC TV. To this day it's not only my favorite television show of all time, but it's anarchic, middle finger spirit is still an inspiration to me. While other people my age were writing their “Who is the biggest influence in your life?” essays for their college apps about their grandmas or Martin Luther King, there I was, writing about Rod Lott, Tom Warner, Scott Huffines and, well, a few lines about Rudy Ray Moore, as I had also recently discovered DOLEMITE and was obsessed.

When the Internet became more commonplace, I eventually manned-up and contacted Tom and Scott who gladfully submitted to an interview for my magazine DAMAGED. Additionally, I also interviewed Melissa Darwin, then known to me as ATOMIC TV starlet Chastity Darling, who I was inconsolably infatuated with. They were all such incredibly nice guys who, surprising to me, were fans of my stuff too. Since then, we've all stayed in touch via different social networking systems and the like, but never really actually ever met. Ever.

That all changed on the DEVASTATOR '09 tour, though.

Some people want to be a star in LA, or a hipster big-wig in New York. I have always felt that my place was in Baltimore. It's like an urbane Oklahoma City or Austin minus the irony. It's a city with a proud weight and attitude problem and, after living in Fort Collins, one of “America's Fittest Cities” and “America's Best Place to Live”, respectively, it was great to be “the slim one” and “the nice guy”. It's someplace that I want to live someday. I love Baltimore.

My plans had gotten all bugga-booed and the bus-ride to Baltimore was a nightmare, with a day to hangout there subtracted. I had hoped to spend the day with Tom and Scott—they always spoke of a “syphilis tree” that intrigued me—but, sadly, it wasn't meant to be.

After a gang-fight that ended with our bus-driver getting what-for upside the head, we pulled into Baltimore about 8:30 PM, and, after numerous time changes and finaglings, was happy to see the burly bear that is Scott Huffines waiting for me, happily enough, even though he was suffering from the flu, a minor respiratory illness and an infected tooth. As we headed into town to meet up with Tom and Melissa at the Golden West, Tom, at roughly 15-miles over the speed limit, gave me a hilarious BENNY HILL-style tour of the seamier side of Baltimore, including a quick glance at the alley where Divine ate dog-shit in PINK FLAMINGOS, as well as every single former location of his former business, Atomic Books.

I, starstruck, was too afraid to say too much of anything, lest I be thought of as a moron.

We arrived at the restaurant, the aforementioned Golden West, and there was my wispy blond angel Tom—he should be the official spokesmen for Scandinavians, even if he isn't one—and Melissa, who should be the spokesmen for delightful and pleasant humans, as she welcomed with a hug and a pirate-themed welcome gift filled with various Baltimore-related items, such as milk and cream based caramel candies, gooey cream-filled goodies from the good people at Mary Sue, a crab-shaped lollipop and, a decidedly non-edible Baltimore Orioles yo-yo. (I still haven't taken any of these out of their wrappers, wanting to preserve them for all time.)

We all filed into the nice, swanky “fusion” eatery, and I promptly ordered a legendary Natural Bohemian beer—one of the few beers I have actually been able to stomach, thus, I loved it—and, per Scott's order, a “Bacon Bullet Bourbon Shooter”, which is a tasty-ish cocktail made-up of Bullet bourbon, molasses and a stick of bacon. Five minutes into Baltimore and I have already spit in my concerned doctor's face from at least three different angles.

As we sat there, eating our meals—I ordered a burrito of some sort that tricked me into eating squash as a Mexican food, but was, don't get me wrong, very delicious, talking about SAG cards, masturbation euphemisms past ATOMIC TV reminisces, hipster doofuses and Baconnaise, which I have learned is my new, awesome albatross, to the point where J & D should hire me as a spokesman.

I, starstruck, was too afraid to say too much of anything, lest I be thought of as a moron.

The dinner was really way too short, with, after a few pics taken, Melissa had to go home and go bed, as she is a responsible “early riser”. I made sure to get some “huggy” pictures, because I am pretty sleazy at times. A tear welled in the corner of my eye as she left.

Even though Tom and Scott had work the next day, and were sickly on top of that, they soldiered on and took me to a local neighborhood corner swanky bar called Rocket to Venus, where I had a few more Natty Bo's that quickly rocketed to my penis, as I had to urinate, like, five times. That's a good beer! We sat on bar-stools, like dudes do, talking about chicks, Underdog Lady, chicks, hipster hats, chicks and how we are all getting old and, as soon as we get home from work, get into our pajamas, my pajamas being boxers and nothing else—this might have worried Tom, as I was “crashing” at his place tonight.

After standing around for a while, hobnobbing with the locals where I pretended to blend in by making fun of the Baltimore suburb of Dundalk. “HAHAHA, yeah, what losers! LOL...please be my friend...”

Scott, no longer able to force off the amorous advances of Mr. Sandman, called it a night. As his burly, bear-like visage disappeared into the night, a tear welled in the corner of my eye as he left.

This left me with Tom, at whose house, as I said earlier, I was “crashing” at. After letting Tom know, repeatedly, I might add, that I snore to the point of comedic loudness, he took me on a tour of his insanely awesome house, a house which, if my wife would let me have my way, would be decorated. Filled with years of cult movie memorabilia lost musical treasure, library-shelves filled with outré' lit and rows and rows of zines. He could have started his own zine museum (a mu-zine-um?). We chatted for a while about Tommy Keene, and then I finally passed out in his guest room, on a bed whose mattress must have been stuffed with kittens and angels; I sunk into it and sunk into dreamland.

I also used his facilities—thanks, squash burrito—and, on my way out, promptly apologized for turning his bathroom into a “Troma movie”. After 30 hours on a bus and a squash burrito, it wasn't pretty.

It was early in the morning when Tom awoke me to let me know he was leaving. He left me some towels and said our goodbyes. A tear welled in the corner of my eye as he left.

While I will always cherish the time I spent with this Atomic Trio, I can't help but note that it was the most bitter or bittersweet. All these years and I had so many questions, and places to relive that I had seen on video...I had always hoped that I would show up and we'd all get out video cameras and shoot a new episode of ATOMIC TV entitled “Louis Does Baltimore, But Baltimore Gets the Upper Hand and Does Louis Back”. It would end with a bar-fight at an outside art-instillation where I would be stabbed by a disgruntled vet. I would have also been in my underwear when it happened, in tribute to ATV superstar Chris Jensen.

There's always next time, right? Or, better yet, why don't you guys come down here to Fort Collins? You guys think hipsters are bad, wait until you get a whiff of the Rocky Mountain Hippies! And, I promise that even though I'll be starstruck, I won't be too afraid to say too much of anything, lest I be thought of as a moron.

(For Tom's take on the whole thing, check out his post here.)

X-MEN ORIGINS – WOLVERINE: Snikt, snikt, fizz, fizz, oh what a relief it is.

2009-05-17T16:56:00.002-06:00

X-MEN ORIGINS – WOLVERINE
Starring Hugh Jackman, Liev Schreiber, Danny Huston
Directed by Gavin Hood
20th Century Fox
Review by Louis Fowler

OK. So here we go again.

So I finally got around to watching WOLVERINE yesterday. Usually I am first in line for comic book adaptations, but I've been so out of it lately that I almost missed it, like I did with PUNISHER: WAR ZONE—I'm still kicking myself over that, because that was a movie that the phrase “fucking awesome” was created for.

Look: WOLVERINE is a great, fun movie. It's definitely the best of the X-MEN movies; it wonderfully avoids Bryan Singer's heavy-handedness and Brett Ratner's ham-handedness, creating an extremely exciting movie that, as far as Marvel adaptations go, is right up there at the top for me. What is there to hate here?

I know you disagree with me, fine. I've read the other reviews—it was hard not to miss the bad (mostly) Internet reviews from nerds who were miffed about one thing or another. This is the same problem I had with FANTASTIC FOUR: RISE OF THE SILVER SURFER. I've noticed, from the websites I write for to the forums I frequent to the sly little Twitter quips, that more and more, as the Internet transforms into a bigger, louder community, they are starting to form a Borg-like Hive mentality that eschews any type of differing opinions.

I didn't like WATCHMEN. OK—I thought it was, you know, “alright”, but it sure as hell wasn't the end-all, be-all of comic book adaptations. The graphic novel is overrated enough, but the movie's fandom felt forced. You were made to feel like you had to like it or you just didn't get the illustrated storytelling medium. You were an imbecile who still reads—P'SHAW—lame heroes like SUPERMAN. No matter how you slice it, WATCHMEN was too long, too boring, too overwrought and too cold. But, then again, I love the previous PUNISHER adaptations and GHOST RIDER and the FANTASTIC FOUR flicks and even DAREDEVIL, so I'm wrong, right? My opinion is wrong. My likes are wrong. What I find entertaining is wrong.

Recently, I've caught hell for liking ROB ZOMBIE'S HALLOWEEN (I like it better than the original) and not wanting to see MARTYRS or ALL THE BOYS LOVE MANDY LANE or BASEMENT GEEK CIRCLE JERK #12. (And why is everyone supposed to hate Rob Zombie, for some reason? And, if you don't, it's like you don't know the “secret knock” and sorry, you're not allowed.) It's this collective mentality that is ruining film criticism. Not only is it yahoos with an Internet connection who can never fully explain why they hate something beyond the superficial, but it's a cult that is trying desperately to kill off any individuality, with hiding-behind-a-computer-force, if applicable.

It seems like this type of violent nerdery is only really present in genre film. No one ever calls another person a “stupid faggot” for liking A ROOM WITH A VIEW over REMAINS OF THE DAY. But, say that you liked BATMAN AND ROBIN over BATMAN BEGINS, like I did, and you might as well be filling every hole on you body with multiple man-roots while wearing a BATMAN shirt with the nipples cut out. Yes, you are that much of a pariah.

But you are right. That's all you want to hear. Type in all caps to let me make sure. Call me an “idiot”. Make a fat joke. Do whatever is necessary to let me know that I am wrong for loving WOLVERINE, even more so than WATCHMEN or, gasp, THE DARK KNIGHT.

I, on the other hand, couldn't give a damn whether or not you agree with me. I am free in that respect, not having to worry if the nerd-trend slave-masters are gonna whip me. You will always be afraid of what is thought of you, and your opinion, so you cannot be trusted as a film critic. You're no better than, say, a professional film critic you gets a paid-ticket junket to write a puff-piece on why Megan Fox is “the hotness” (that's the popular jack-off idol right now, right?).

One thing that I can promise: I will never, ever lie to you about what I like. No matter how embarrassing the general public may want it to be, if I like it, I will honestly tell you. If I hate it, I will honestly tell you. And you can believe it won't be because I'm trying to get some advertising or please a studio.

You need some proof: the Sci-Fi Channel's MEGASNAKE was one of my favorite films of last year. Does that lose me cool points? Fine, just take it down to zero. I'll deal somehow.

So, WOLVERINE.

WOLVERINE delivers. It is every single thing I want in a comic book movie: a clear-cut hero who knows the difference between good and evil, over-the-top fight scenes that have zero basis in reality, multiple cameos by characters from the books, questionable special effects that only heighten the “comic bookiness” of the proceedings...even the opening sequence was cooler than WATCHMEN. The whole time I was watching it, I was sitting up straight in my seat: I care about Wolverine, I care about his origin, I care about his mission...I care. I care about everything this movie put in front of my eyes.

What is it that you didn't like about WOLVERINE? You can pick apart nit-picky things to impress your pals on your podcast, where upon each of you can get into an acidic little pissing contest as to who can hate it more? Oh, Deadpool's origin wasn't what you were used to? They cast a Black-Eyed Pea? Professor X looked a bit too CGI'ed?

All excruciatingly minor, purely needless quibbles. They, in no way once, took you out of a film about a 150+ year old mutant with bone claws who has metal grafted onto them while his psychotic, animalistic brother hunts and steals the powers of other mutants so a crazed army general can create a super-mutant to use as a living weapon. Not. Once. Look, WOLVERINE was extremely entertaining. How can you counter that? Were you not, at any point, entertained fully by WOLVERINE? Was there any moment that you can honestly say that you were bored?

I bet you can't say that about WATCHMEN...

A CRIMSON RIVER OF FLAVA (BIG RED #12): A Poem by Maya Angelouis

2009-05-17T16:37:00.003-06:00

A CRIMSON RIVER OF FLAVA (BIG RED #12): A Poem by Maya Angelouis

You are finally available at my local
7 (years of waiting)-11 (years old when I had you last)
Oh, sweet crimson bubbles tickle
You fill my round belly with coldness
Like a cool African river...like a river of blood,
Only this blood is drinkable.

You are my spiritual salvation
20 ounces? 20 OUNCES?
I wish that you came out of my tap,
I wish that I could tap what you come out of...
Osiris beckons.

Made in Texas, but created by the Goddess,
“fizz, fizz, gulp, gulp, burp”

Will you take a check?

STAR TREK: The next resuscitation!!!

2009-05-08T18:35:00.006-06:00

STAR TREK
Starring Chris Pine, Zachary Quinto, Leonard Nimoy
Directed by JJ Abrams
Paramount Pictures
by Louis Fowler

To enjoy the new STAR TREK, you have to let go of so many things. Things that will hamper your enjoyment otherwise. Like, well, any love you have for the original series and, to a lesser extent, personal things, like my intense dislike of a certain director. STAR TREK is a movie where, to quote the drunks, you just have to “let go and let God”.

It's a lot like when you get a brand new car: at first, you're so busy trying to keep it cherry that you don't really get to enjoy it. At all. But, somehow, you get that first scratch or ding and then it's like an enormous weight has been lifted. You can finally sit back and go for a dangerous drive without fear. Screw it.

You have to let go of everything you know about STAR TREK to enjoy it and, once that enjoyment sets in, you not only learn to appreciate it as its own thing, but, in a very nerdy way, within the TREK canon. I'll explain this later.

Everyone knows by now that this is a total restart of the series, featuring the obligatory origins of all the characters we know and love, with a fairly standard plot thrown in—about a vengeful Romulan out to implode the Earth via black hole—as an excuse to give you some action. And, to be honest, this little sub-plot might as well be rote, because you want to watch the characters as the are introduced in rapid succession and see how they interact. That's way more interesting than the real plot and every moment of origin is pure screen gold. The Romulan storyline? You've seen it a million times before, but hey, the kids love explosions, right?

Where the plot goes good though is by having Leonard Nimoy, the original Spock, in a way-too-big-to-be-called-a-cameo role that, true to the spirit of the best TREK entries, introduces not only a whole time travel angle, but a surprisingly meta alternate universe angle.

I really haven't seen too many other people discuss this, and if you disagree, please let me know in the most vulgar of terms, but I feel that instead of merely starting over—rebooting or reimagining, whatever the phrase du jour is—director JJ Abrams and screenwriters Roberto Orci and Alex Kurtzman recognize the original series and then go ahead and create an alternate timeline for these new-but-same characters to thrive in by having numerous canon-altering scenarios presented and then fully acknowledged. Think of it as the episode “Mirror, Mirror” gone good. This type of plot cheat is very STAR TREK—very Kobayashi Maru, if you will.

And not only is the series now in an alternate universe, but this feels like a TREK movie made in an alternate universe. It's charm and likability lies in the fact that it comes off like a hugely budgeted fan-film, with local playhouse drama kids doing their best TREK character impersonations. They are often dead-on and, in the case of Karl Urban's McCoy, at times winking caricatures, but never really disrespectful or jokey. It was actually refreshing to see them try to capture the essence of the original cast's mannerisms, instead of trying to be “arty” and deliver some crazed, avant-garde interpretations.

So, once I accepted the fact this is a very different STAR TREK, I had to deal with JJ Abrams. I just don't like the guy—CLOVERFIELD is one of the, if not THE worst genre movie I have ever had the torture of sitting through and, to make matters worse, the guy has been consistently making pretty jerky comments to TREK fans, going as far as telling them to not “waste” their time or to just “not see the movie”. It's one thing to try to do you own thing, that's great, another to want to bite the hand that feels you just for some frat-boyish “let's screw with the geeks” jollies.

Still, he made a great, entertaining movie.

I call this the “Brett Ratner Conundrum”: sometimes loathsome douchebags do make some good movies that can't denied. Ratner made the RUSH HOUR flicks, fey Joss Whedon made FIREFLY and McG, well, I haven't seen TERMINATOR SALVATION, but is there really any doubt it's going to be awesome? All these directors are just horrible, horrible human beings, but damn if they don't make entertaining movies. Damn this up-to-the-minute internet for telling me about the personal lives of people I shouldn't care in the slightest about!

STAR TREK is a great new start to reignite the ailing franchise, and, even better, it's one of the few ones to get it right. It will easily appeal to old fans who remember and, yeah, worship the originals—and, as my “alternate universe” theory screams, still geeky enough to cause only the nerdiest of comic book store speculation and arguments—yet is mainstream enough to be enjoyed by any random , non-interested moviegoer looking for two-hours of popcorn entertainment. And really, bringing together different people...wasn't that the message of STAR TREK all along?

Dick Van Patten has a line of cat food?!?!

2009-05-08T14:11:00.005-06:00

I have no idea where this came from, but yesterday, on my front steps, was a bag of Dick Van Patten's Natural Balance Ultra-Premium Cat Food.

Forget the fact that I don't have a cat and that I don't know who left this there; my big question is this: WHEN DID TV'S DICK VAN PATTEN START HIS OWN LINE OF CAT FOOD??? And, even more so, does slapping his name on the bag really insure bigger sales, than say, Norman Fell? Abe Vigoda? Randolph Mantooth?

Well, his name sells me, and if he has a dog food, I'll be there--EIGHT bags won't be ENOUGH for my Hoogie! In the meantime, if he doesn't, I guess I'll make do with Gabe Kaplan's Meaty Morsels'N'Chunks!

As a nice little bonus, here's a pic of Dick and admitted 12-year painkiller abuser Paula Abdul with a dog!